Desecration
by TabbyShhh
Summary: He knows it's destructive and he knows he should stop. Warning: Some fairly graphic descriptuion of self harm. Bruce/Dick Slash


Title: Desecration(1/1)

Dick winced as he cleaned the cut on his leg. He knew he had to stop, he knew it was destructive but...

"Dick, do you have the..." Tim paused in the doorway as Dick quickly pulled his jeans back on. "Are you ok?"

"Fine." Dick was lying, he'd never been less fine in his life. "Just cleaning some old wounds. I thought you were still sleeping."

"No, I'm up." Tim frowned, he wasn't used to Dick lying so blatantly or so badly. "So, you wanna play some video games?" He offered. They didn't get much time to just hang out and since Bruce had agreed that Tim could stay overnight with Dick, after patrolling Bludhaven for a change, they may as well make the most of it.

"Sure." Dick grinned, Tim could tell he was trying to pretend everything was fine but Dick wasn't likely to win an Oscar any time soon. He knew better than to push, Dick could be as stubborn as his mentor when challenged and his moods had been so changeable lately. Tim didn't want to fight with him. "Why don't you go set up?" Dick  
said.

"Ok. What do you want to play?"

"You choose." Tim nodded, leaving the room, still frowning. Dick sighed, putting away the small scalpel and the antiseptic wipes. He had to be more careful.

vvvvvv

"Tim." Bruce looked surprised as Tim entered his office at Wayne Enterprises. They associated very little in public, although people were aware that Bruce had taken Tim in while his father was unwell so it didn't look that strange for Tim to visit. Tim was cautious though and Bruce couldn't remember him ever visiting WE without an invitation since he had moved back in with his father.

"Hey." Tim greeted, dropping his school bag onto a chair.

"Take a seat." Bruce offered. "Is everything ok?" He watched as Tim tensed almost imperceptibly before sitting down.

"Can I talk to you?" Tim asked, looking at Bruce seriously.

"Of course." Bruce frowned a little.

"It's about Dick." Tim admitted. Bruce's frown deepened but he nodded. "He's been behaving really strangely lately. I know you've noticed."

"He's had a lot on his mind." Bruce knew that excuse wouldn't wash even before Tim glared at him.

"We all have a lot on our minds." Bruce just nodded again. "He's been so moody and...reckless."

"Dick's always been reckless." Bruce shook his head.

"Not like this, and he's never been moody." Tim argued.

"He's only human, Tim. He's going to have bad days like the rest of us." Bruce tried to soothe Tim's fears but in reality he'd been worried about Dick himself for some time. The boy, man really Bruce had to remind himself, had been dropping into dark moods more characteristic of Bruce. His usual smile and happy demeanour seemed forced like he was hiding something and the cracks were beginning to show. Bruce clearly couldn't ignore it anymore, if Tim was worried enough to speak to him about it then it must be time for him to confront Dick.

"He's been having a bad couple of months." Tim sighed, slumping back in his chair and then correcting his posture after a look from Bruce. "The thing is...when I was at his apartment over the weekend I caught him...He had cuts on his legs." Bruce frowned.

"That's the nature of our work Tim..."

"Are you going to listen or not?" Tim demanded. Bruce stopped speaking abruptly. Tim must really be worried about Dick. "Sorry, I..."

"Go on." Bruce nodded to show he wasn't angry.

"They were just small cuts, like maybe if a window blew out and the glass got him but...well, glass can't get through his uniform and...this is the weird bit." He looked up at Bruce who motioned for him to continue. "They were in lines."

"Lines?" Bruce asked. Tim nodded.

"Yeah, evenly spaced and in straight lines down his upper thighs. On the inside. I didn't get to see them for long because he pulled up his jeans as soon as he knew I was there." Tim sighed.

"He was hiding them from you?" Bruce frowned deeply.

"Yeah. Bruce...I think he might have done them himself." Tim looked at Bruce, desperate to be told he was mistaken. Bruce wasn't even looking at him and when Tim followed his line of vision he saw that he was looking at the framed picture of Dick at his high school graduation that sat in pride of place on Bruce's desk and had since Tim had known him.

"It would make sense." Bruce replied eventually. He sounded troubled and Tim could hardly blame him.

"It explains why he's been so weird about training and showering at the manor." Tim agreed. "Are you going to speak to him?"

"I don't think I have a choice."

vvvvvv

Dick watched the blood trickle down his leg with interest, stopping it before it got past his knee. He had this down to a fine art now, knowing exactly how deep to make the cuts, where to put them so that they wouldn't be irritated by the seams of his costume. He knew it was wrong and he'd tried to stop. It was something he had done as a child, after his parents' death but before Bruce had gifted him with the outlet that being Robin had provided. A few months ago something had snapped and he had started again, promising himself it would be just once he had picked the scab off a healing wound and watched with satisfaction as the blood left his body. He hadn't done it for a while after but another bad night had left him feeling frustrated and this time he had had no scabs to pick so he had cut himself, slicing his skin, the physical pain almost outweighing the emotional pain he couldn't express until it had become an almost daily occurrence. Sometimes the burn and ache of his muscles after a particularly bruising patrol was enough. Sometimes it simply wasn't.

Tim had almost caught him at the weekend, a few seconds earlier and he would have seen Dick slice into his own skin and wince in satisfaction at the sharp pain. He had tried to stop, again, if Bruce found out he would be angry. Dick frowned as he cleaned the cut carefully. That was just what he wanted, Bruce to be mad at him again. To see what a worthless joke Dick had become despite Bruce's best efforts to make him into a better man. Dick swiped at the tears on his face with the back of his hand and picked up the scalpel again.

vvvvvv

"Alfred, I need to ask a favour." Bruce said as Alfred handed him the morning paper.

"Of course." Alfred sounded curious.

"Dick's coming over to help Tim train. I want you to ask him to stay for dinner. Don't let him say no." Bruce gave Alfred a pleading glance.

"Master Dick hasn't been keen to spend time here lately." Alfred reminded Bruce.

"I know but...I need to speak to him about something and I don't want to have to do it as Batman." Bruce admitted. Alfred chose not to enquire further.

"I will do my best, sir. And may I say it's about time you spoke to him. Something is troubling that young man." Bruce couldn't help but smile at Alfred's concern.

"I know. I shouldn't have left it so long but..."

"But he tends to take your protective instincts as a suggestion of inadequacy on his part." Alfred always knew what Bruce was saying.

"Exactly." Bruce agreed with a sigh.

vvvvvv

"Good job." Dick smiled with delight as Tim made the catch. He had been purposely avoiding spending time at the manor, including training, which meant he had missed the delights of the trapeze Bruce had rigged up for him.

"Can we stop now?" Tim begged. His arms were aching, his knees were shaking and Dick would just keep going until Tim asked. He didn't seem to notice time when they were on the trapeze but they had already spent hours working on Tim's flexibility, which was never going to match Dick's. Even Bruce wasn't quite as agile as their resident acrobat.

"Sure." Dick nodded. "I'm going to hang out up here a little longer."

"Are you staying for dinner?" Tim asked.

"Yeah." Dick called down to him. "Alfred ambushed me."

"Cool. Make sure you shower." Tim pretended to order. "I don't know what it is with your new aversion to water but you stink." He ducked as Dick swung dangerously close to his head. He dodged out of the room and headed down to the cave to find Bruce.

"How was training?" Bruce asked with a slight smile when he saw how dishevelled and winded Tim was. Dick could always be relied upon to push Tim's boundaries and limits and still leave the teenager with a smile on his face at the end of the session.

"Good." Tim nodded. "I'm exhausted." He admitted, sitting down to catch his breath for a minute. "Dick's still up there. He seems ok today." He added. Dick had seemed cheerful, almost back to his usual self. Tim was beginning to doubt his conclusions but then nothing else made sense. "Are you going to speak to him?"

"Yes." Bruce sighed. "He's going to have to shower since he's staying for dinner. I'll do it then."

"I'll stay out of the way." Tim promised. There were always fireworks whenever Dick and Bruce confronted each other about something. Bruce nodded and Tim headed to the showers, knowing that was the end of the conversation.

vvvvvv

Dick sighed as he soaped himself up in the cave's shower, the water beating down on him reminding him that he needed to do something about the water pressure at his apartment. It was just a trickle compared to this. The water was hotter than necessary but the pain was welcome, as was the stinging sensation of the soap in the fresh cuts on his legs. Those from that morning that was, he wasn't stupid enough to cut himself at the manor. Tim was doing homework in the dining room, Alfred was preparing dinner and Dick had heard Bruce on the phone in his study so he knew he had a little while to enjoy the painful shower. The water suddenly lost a significant amount of its heat and Dick cursed, rinsing himself off and grabbing a towel. He dried himself off while still in the shower area, intending to dress as soon as he entered the changing room. He wrapped the towel around his waist and headed into the changing room, surprised to be confronted by Bruce standing close to the thermostat and looking at him with a carefully controlled expression of calm.

"Were you trying to burn yourself?" Bruce demanded. "You know the only reason the water gets that hot is for when we need to wash off chemical agents." He glowered. Dick shrugged, trying not to wince as the skin on his shoulders and back pulled. Maybe Bruce was right and he had over done it a little, his skin felt tight. "Put these on." Bruce instructed, throwing him a pair of briefs.

"These aren't mine." Dick replied, glancing at the bench where his own clothes were waiting for him.

"I don't care." Bruce almost lost his calm facade completely. "Put them on." He insisted. "You need to put some cream on your back or the skin's going to blister." He added, knowing Dick was more likely to do as instructed if given a reason. Dick sighed but did as he was told, pulling them on under his towel.

"Happy?" He asked.

"No." Bruce replied immediately. "Give me the towel." He held out his hand.

"What? No." Dick clutched the towel tighter.

"Give it to me."

"Why?" Dick's heart thumped loudly in his ears.

"Because I want to see the back of your thighs. They'll blister too." Bruce lied easily.

"They're fine." Dick replied.

"What's the harm in letting me see?" Bruce asked. "Give me the towel." Dick recognised the dangerous tone of Bruce voice but still refused to back down.

"I'm not a child, Bruce. You can't just order me around." He didn't yell. He knew better than to yell at Bruce but it didn't seem to make any difference. Bruce stormed towards him anyway and Dick flinched, backing up a step. Bruce's hand's gripped the towel and a tug or war ensued. The towel ripped with a noise that nearly broke Dick. Dick was left with a small scrap of fabric in his hand while Bruce held the majority of the ruined towel. His eyes were immediately drawn to Dick's inner thighs, immediately seeing the large number of small wounds in meticulously straight, even spaced lines. Dick backed up until he hit a wall. He hissed as his tender back connected with the cool tiles of the wall but he refused to look up and meet Bruce's eyes. He couldn't, he knew what he would find there. Anger, disgust and all the other terrifying things he saw in his own eyes when he looked in the mirror.

"Come with me." Bruce said, his voice quietly controlled. Dick just stayed where he was, staring at the floor, his breathing erratic. Bruce grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the changing rooms and down to the med bay. "Lie down on your front." He ordered, opening the cabinet. Dick just stood next to the gurney. "Lie down." Bruce  
repeated through gritted teeth. Dick did as he was told, still clutching the remnants of the towel. He winced as the cold cream made the first contact with his skin and was smoothed across his back, over his shoulders and down his legs. Bruce wasn't gentle but then Dick didn't want him to be. Dick stayed exactly where he was as Bruce returned the jar to the medical cabinet and washed his hands. "Sit up." Bruce insisted. His hand on Dick's shoulder ensured Dick did as he was told. Dick sat with his legs closed tightly. "Show me." Bruce insisted. Dick shook his head. "Please." Bruce tried, fighting to keep his voice steady. Dick unlocked the muscles in his legs and allowed Bruce to push them apart. It took every ounce of control Bruce had not to gasp.

There were two lines of cuts on each leg, two lines of ten, Bruce counted. Forty cuts and scars where other cuts had clearly been allowed to heal. The cuts were small but deep. He frowned deeply. They were in various stages of the healing process but some of them were fresh, clearly from that morning, their edges livid from the shower. He ran his hand down the inside of Dick's left thigh, feeling the bumps of the scabs and scars under his fingers. Dick's breath hitched in what should have been a sob. Would have been for anyone who didn't consider themselves a member of the Batclan.

"When did this start?" Bruce asked gently, as though Dick was a frightened child who might bolt at any second. The reality was that Dick might bolt, and thanks to Bruce's teachings was quite capable of getting away. Dick just shook his head and refused to meet Bruce's gaze. "Dick."

"I don't know." Dick whispered.

"Don't lie." Bruce reprimanded, keeping his tone soft. "Some of these are obviously a few weeks old and there are scars. When did you start?"

"A few months ago." Dick admitted vaguely. He had thought about this moment so many times. What he would do if Bruce caught him out, which was bound to happen eventually. He had planned to lie, make up some story about the cuts being from barbed wire or something but now the protests died before they even reached his lips. Bruce knew, Bruce knew he had done it before and had thought about doing it since.

"Why?" Bruce asked.

"I don't know." Dick was still looking down and Bruce watched in dismay as a tear fell from his face onto his leg. He tilted Dick's face up to force him to look at him.

"Why?" He asked again.

"I don't know." Dick looked angry and pushed his hand away. "I don't know, ok? I know it's stupid and dangerous and destructive and everything you're going to tell me. I need it."

"You need what?"

"The pain." Dick whispered.

"Why?" Bruce was never going to be able to understand. He never had understood Dick's need to do this to himself.

"To make me feel better." Only someone with hearing as good as Bruce's would have been able to hear that, it was more breath than anything else.

"Look at me." Bruce pleaded, wiping away Dick's tears when his request was granted. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. He had caught Dick doing this, when he was twelve and had put a stop to it immediately. Making Dick attend counselling, spending more time with him, and allowing him to become Robin had all helped to improve Dick's self image and stop him feeling the need to self harm. Dick had admitted when he was about 15 or 16 that he had been tempted to do it again and so Bruce had repeated the pattern, forcing Dick to attend counselling, sacrificing social events that he didn't really want to attend anyway to spend time with his ward, and encouraging Dick's involvement in the Teen Titans. "Why?" He asked when no answer was forthcoming.

"Because I'm not your problem now." Dick said, scrubbing at his eyes to stop more tears from falling. Bruce took his hands to stop him.

"You were never a problem, Dick." He replied seriously. "You have no idea what you mean to me and I know that has in some part to do with me, but I've tried to tell you so many times how proud I am of you. How much I love you." And that was the problem. That was how this had started really, this time around anyway. After years of dancing around each other the two of them had finally admitted that their feelings ran deeper than mentor and protégé or friends and peers. The problem was, Dick didn't think he was good enough for Bruce and had run after the initial confession, telling Bruce he needed space. Bruce had understood, had allowed Dick to pretend it had never happened but clearly that had not been the right thing to do. He cupped Dick's face in his palm. "Promise me you won't do this anymore."

"I..."

"I mean it, Dick. No more cutting, no more scalding showers." Bruce pleaded. "I spend half my nights worrying that you're going to be hurt, I can't stand the thought of you doing this to yourself." Dick looked stricken. "Please."

"I won't." Dick promised. "I tried to stop I just..."

"Tell me what you need, Dick. Tell me what I can do to stop this from happening again." Bruce begged.

"I don't know." Dick looked back at the floor. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There is nothing wrong with you." Bruce told him surely.

"Then why do I do this to myself?" Dick demanded angrily. "It's not normal! Sane people don't cut themselves. They don't take showers that make their skin blister. They don't run away when someone tells them they love them because they're scared that that person will find out what they're really like."

"Is that what you think?" Bruce asked. "You think I don't know you?" Dick just shrugged, looking away, his chest still heaving a little. "You're wrong. I know you. I know you're smart and funny and determined. I know you have risked your life for things you believe in and will again. I know you're prepared to stand up and fight for those who are being hurt. What I don't know is why you don't understand any of those things about yourself. Why do you think you're worth so little that it's ok to desecrate your own body? You have to tell me because I'm terrified that it's something I've done  
that makes you hate yourself so much."

"You haven't done anything." Dick replied quietly, all the anger gone from his body after Bruce's impassioned speech.

"Then who has?" Bruce asked. "Who told you that you were worth so little?"

"Me." Dick replied after a long pause.

"Why?" Bruce asked. Dick just shrugged. "I don't know either." Bruce sighed. "I think you should stay here for a few days." He said, knowing Dick wasn't going to like the idea.

"What? No." Dick sat up. "I'm fine. I promise I won't do it again."

"Still, I think it would be better. That way I can keep an eye on you."

"I don't need anyone to keep an eye on me." Dick stood, blocking Bruce's exit. Bruce had to fight not to let his body react at the sight of Dick in front of him wearing very little. He could still see the cuts on Dick's legs though, and his shoulders were still red  
from the scalding shower. The sight of those things marring Dick's beautiful body helped quell Bruce's lust. "I'm not staying here, Bruce!"

"Fine." Bruce stepped round Dick.

"Where are you going?"

"To ask Alfred to pack me a bag."

"Why?" Dick frowned.

"Because if you're not willing to stay here then I'll have to come and stay with you in Bludhaven." Bruce replied simply.

"No!" Dick couldn't cope with that. The manor was bad enough but at least it was big enough that Dick could hide. His apartment was too small, there would be no escape from Bruce's watchful eye. "You can't do that."

"Then you'll stay here?" Bruce asked, knowing that he had won. Dick nodded. "Good. Get dressed, dinner will be ready soon." He instructed, heading up the stairs to the manor.

vvvvvv

Dick sat silently through dinner. Alfred and Tim tried valiantly to make conversation but Bruce was characteristically silent and their attempts to draw Dick into conversation failed miserably. Bruce was watching Dick closely but Dick was staring at his plate, refusing to look at anyone directly unless they spoke to him in which case they got a blank stare and a non-committal response. He put down his knife and fork.

"You can eat more than that." Bruce said quietly. Dick looked at him and Bruce met his gaze, daring him to disagree. Dick picked up his cutlery and continued to eat flushing with anger and embarrassment at being treated like a child in front of Tim. "I made you an appointment with Dr. Avon." Bruce commented calmly.

"What?!" Dick asked. "I mean, pardon?" He repeated, feeling rather than seeing Alfred's disapproval.

"I made you an appointment with Dr. Avon." Bruce repeated nonchalantly. "Tomorrow morning. He agreed to squeeze you in."

"I'm not going."

"You are."

"You can't make me." Dick replied childishly, glaring at Bruce.

"We both know that's not true." Bruce didn't want to do this to Dick but he didn't see any other option. Dr. Avon was the second psychiatrist Bruce had sent Dick to, when he had become to old to see the child psychologist. Leslie had recommended Dr. Avon and he had been a good choice. "You liked him when you saw him before."

"I don't need to see a psychiatrist, Bruce." He couldn't believe they were having this discussion at the dinner table. Alfred didn't look happy either and Tim was looking resolutely at his plate. Dick didn't notice any of that though, he was too busy focusing his indignance on Bruce.

"You do." Bruce stood. "I won't allow you to treat yourself with such disrespect, Dick." Bruce left the room and Dick followed him.

"You won't allow me?" He demanded. "It's not up to you!"

"It has to be up to someone." Bruce growled. "Go to bed, Dick."

"What? It's only 7.30. I have to patrol." Dick reminded him angrily.

"Are you going to be able to?" Bruce demanded. Dick frowned. "You can barely stand having a shirt on, Dick." He reminded Dick of his painful back and shoulders. "I don't think your skin is going to take kindly to you putting your costume on." Bruce was right, his costume was skin tight and his skin was stinging every time the light cotton shirt he was wearing even brushed it. Dick looked appalled. He had promised himself he wouldn't let any of this interfere with Nightwing. Bruce's glare softened a little when he saw Dick's anger falter. "Go and rest, Dick. Robin can cover Bludhaven for tonight and we can speak about this in the morning." Dick just nodded, watching Bruce enter his study before heading up the stairs to his old room.

vvvvvv

"Is Dick ok?" Tim asked tentatively, standing in the doorway to the study.

"He will be." Bruce promised, with a weak smile. Tim came further into the room.

"Did he tell you why? Why he did it?" Tim asked.

"He gave the same reason he always did." Bruce replied, glancing down at the papers on his desk.

"What?" Tim asked. Bruce frowned, suddenly realising that Tim didn't know Dick had done this before. "This isn't the first time?"

"No." Bruce admitted. "He hasn't done it for a long time. He was much younger, it was before he became Robin."

"Why does he do it?" Tim asked again.

"He says it makes him feel better." Bruce wasn't sure how much he should share with Tim. He and Dick were close but Tim looked up to Dick and Bruce didn't want to damage that.

"Better than what?" Tim asked.

"Dick doesn't like himself very much." Bruce explained.

"Why not?" Tim asked, frowning. "Everyone else likes him."

"I have no idea." Bruce smiled at Tim's confusion. "He thinks that we all see what he sees when he looks in the mirror."

"That's why he gets so mad at you and says you don't think he's good enough?" Tim asked. "Because he doesn't think he's good enough?" Tim didn't understand. Dick had always seemed so well adjusted, like he'd been through what Bruce had but had managed to come through the other side relatively unscathed.

"Sometimes he's ok." Bruce replied. "But then sometimes something scares him and makes him doubt himself."

"What scared him this time?" Tim asked.

"I did." Bruce replied with a sigh.

"How?" Tim asked, ready to defend Dick if he found Bruce was in the wrong.

"I told him I loved him." Bruce confessed.

"You told him you loved him?" Tim looked confused. "Why would that upset him, doesn't he already know?" Bruce just looked at Tim. "You mean you told him you're IN love with him?" Tim asked, realisation crossing his features. "Wow." Bruce just nodded. "Why did that scare him?" Tim knew that Dick felt the same way about Bruce. You'd have to be blind to miss it.

"Because he thinks he's not good enough." Bruce replied.

"What are you going to do to change his mind?"

"I have no idea." Bruce admitted. "I need you to patrol Bludhaven tonight, ok?" Tim just nodded, knowing that it was a rhetorical question and he was being dismissed.

"Can I go up and see him?" He asked, standing to leave.

"It's probably not a good idea." Bruce replied. Tim didn't argue, leaving Bruce on his own to think through what he could do to make Dick realise how amazing he really was.

vvvvvv

"Mr. Wayne." Dr. Avon shook his hand. "Richard." He greeted warmly. Dick shook his hand politely but then looked back at the floor. Dr. Avon didn't appear to react but Bruce knew he was taking it all in. The man was very good, Bruce wouldn't allow Dick to see anyone but the best.

"I'll be out here when you finish." Bruce told Dick.

"Don't you have to go to the office?" Dick glared at him.

"Not right now." Bruce replied. "I have more important things to take care of." Dick just ignored him and walked into the psychiatrist's office. Dr. Avon pulled the door closed, wanting to speak to Bruce privately.

"You know I can't discuss his progress after the session without his permission." He told Bruce. "He's no longer a minor under your guardianship."

"I understand." Bruce nodded. "He just needs to speak to someone. It's much worse this time than when he was a child." Dr. Avon nodded and went into his office. Bruce took a seat and picked up a magazine to pretend to flick through.

He didn't understand why Dick found it easier to speak to a stranger about his feelings than his family. Alfred had suggested that Dick didn't feel like he was being judged by Dr. Avon and Bruce supposed that was true. He had always expected a lot of Dick, sometimes too much. They had a long way to go until Dick would be ok and there was no guarantee that he ever would be and the problem with Dick seeing a psychiatrist was that they could only ever know about half of his life.

vvvvvv

"How did it go?" Bruce asked as they sat eating lunch in his office at Wayne Enterprises.

"Fine." Dick replied, eating another forkful of salad.

"Look, Dick, I know you're angry with me but..."

"Why would I be angry with you?" Dick asked. "Because you embarrassed me in front of Tim? Because you're forcing me to see a psychiatrist? Or maybe because you've practically grounded me. I'm not a child."

"I know."

"Then why do you treat me like one?" Dick asked. Bruce refused to point out that Dick was acting like one.

"Because I care about you." Bruce sighed. "What if you go too far and really hurt yourself?"

"I'm not suicidal, Bruce." Dick glared at him.

"No, but you admitted you didn't mean to scald yourself in the shower, but you did. What if you cut too deeply?" Bruce asked reasonably.

"I won't. I'm not stupid."

"I know that but you're also not thinking logically." Bruce waited until Dick met his eyes. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you at dinner, I didn't mean to." He apologised sincerely. Dick just looked away again. "Tim's worried about you."

"He knows?" Dick asked aghast.

"He saw the cuts on your legs, Dick. When he was at your apartment." Bruce frowned. "How did you think I knew?"

"I though you just found me in the shower." Dick admitted. "He told you?"

"He was worried about you, Dick. He still is." Bruce sighed, it was confession time now. "I accidentally let him know that this isn't the first time this has happened."

"Great." Dick continued to look at the floor. "Now he's going to think I'm pathetic."

"Nothing could be further from the truth. You know he practically worships you." Bruce argued.

"He won't anymore."

"Dick, it's rude to look at the floor when you're speaking to someone."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Dick demanded suddenly, looking at Bruce with flashing eyes. "Alfred? If I want to look at the floor then I will." He added petulantly.

"Dick." Bruce sighed. "What're you doing?" He asked, realising suddenly that Dick's hands were under the table. Dick ignored him. Bruce stood up and made it to Dick's side just in time to see blood running down his palm. He snatched the fork from Dick's hand, grabbing a napkin from the table to stem the flow. "What is wrong with you?" He demanded angrily.

"I don't know." Dick's breath hitched. "Bruce, I don't know." He looked at Bruce with desperate eyes.

"Come here." Bruce pulled Dick into his embrace, allowing the younger man to cry on his shoulder. "It's ok." He soothed. Bruce hated this, he hated seeing Dick cry and feeling so useless.

"I don't know what I'm doing." Dick sobbed. "I don't want to do it, I keep trying to stop but then I feel so bad and...it makes me feel better. I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologise for." Bruce held him closer.

"Yeah, because you don't have better things to do than baby-sit me?" Dick asked sarcastically. "I'm just so pathetic."

"You are not pathetic." Bruce took Dick's upper arms in his hands and pushed him away a little so he was looking directly into Dick's face. "You are not pathetic and any time spent with you is not wasted." Dick looked away. "You can't bear to hear it can you?" Bruce realised suddenly. "You don't like to hear me say anything positive about you."

"It's not true." Dick whispered.

"What?" Bruce asked. "Explain to me."

"You are wasting your time with me. I'm not worth it, I should never have come back. You would have been better off without me." Dick looked at the floor the entire time he spoke.

"Apart from the bit where I was miserable without you." Bruce replied softly. "Knowing you weren't around made it just that bit harder to get up in the morning, Dick." Bruce sighed. "I love you. I'm in love with you."

"Don't." Dick begged. "Don't be nice to me."

"What do you want me to do?" Bruce asked. "Hit you? Tell you you're worthless?" Dick shook his head. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't know." He clung to Bruce desperately.

"I love you, Dick. Asking me not to say it isn't going to make it any less true."

"I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?"

"Why you love me. I...I don't even like myself sometimes and you're so much better than me. You shouldn't love me." Dick shook his head. Bruce's heart broke.

"But I do. I can't help myself, Dick. You're so amazing and you clearly don't realise." Bruce breathed in deeply to calm himself. "But you will. I'm going to make sure that you see how wonderful I think you are."

"How are you going to do that?" Dick asked.

"Any way I can." Bruce promised, kissing Dick's forehead lightly.

vvvvvv

Dick was lying on the mat in front of the fire in Bruce's study, basking in the warmth and just looking generally gorgeous. Bruce was pretending to work but was spending most of the time staring at Dick. An easy truce had settled between them after an argument about Dick patrolling which had ended with the agreement that Nightwing could patrol as long as he was accompanied by Robin and returned to the manor immediately after.

"What are you reading?" He asked, noticing Dick had a book in his hands although he hadn't seen him get it. That must have been during the brief period when Bruce had actually managed to focus on his work for five minutes.

"Dr. Avon said I should divert my attention to things I'm interested in." Dick replied. "It's a book on flower arranging." Bruce smiled, he knew when he was being teased.

"Are you thinking of becoming a florist?" He asked.

"It'd save you a lot of money when you want flowers sending to your dates." Dick replied. Bruce frowned.

"You know I'm not going on dates right now."

"I know." Dick replied. He knew why too but he wasn't anywhere close to ready to deal with the implications of Bruce becoming celibate for him.

"What's it really about?" Bruce asked.

"Aerodynamics in motor vehicles." Dick replied. Bruce nodded, that sounded more like something Dick would be interested in. "It's successfully diverting my attention."

"From what?"

"From the fact that I want to hurt myself." Dick replied bluntly. "Or it was." Dick closed the book and sat up, resting his chin on his knees and wrapping his arms around himself. Bruce got up from his chair, walking around the desk and sitting on the floor right next to Dick who didn't look at him but leaned into him a little.

"You're feeling low?" Bruce asked gently.

"Yeah." Dick admitted. "It's pretty much how I've been feeling all the time lately." Bruce stayed silent, he really didn't know what to say. "Does Alfred know?"

"Excuse me?"

"Does Alfred know why you're making me stay here?"

"I haven't told him you've been self-harming if that's what you mean." Bruce refused to skirt round the issue like Dick attempted to. "Although when he heard you had an appointment with Dr. Avon he would probably have guessed."

"Probably." Dick agreed looking back at his knee caps like they were the most interesting things he had seen for a long time.

"How's your hand?" Bruce asked, unwrapping Dick's arm from around him and opening his hand carefully so he could examine the four small puncture marks left by the fork.

"It's ok." Dick replied. "You snatched the fork off me before I could get very deep." Bruce nodded, Dick was right. The wounds had stopped bleeding quickly and the glove of his Nightwing costume would provide adequate protection while he was patrolling.

"What am I going to do with you?" Bruce asked, releasing Dick's hand and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, grateful when Dick didn't reject the comfort.

"I don't know." Dick's forehead returned to his knees, hiding his face completely. Bruce sighed, he had to do something and quickly.

vvvvvv

"Has Dick been down yet?" Bruce asked Alfred as he sat down at the table. Dick had always been an early riser routinely getting up earlier than Bruce. Bruce had always thought that it was his love of life that made him want to make the most of each day. Now he wondered if Dick just needed activity to stop him from thinking about the faults he imagined he had. Dick living alone in Bludhaven was probably a factor in all of this too, he had always been a people person, needing contact with others to make him feel good about himself. Perhaps that was why things had gotten so bad in the  
few months he had been avoiding coming to the manor. The people Dick relied on the most to affirm his self worth were no longer accessible, because of his self-imposed exile, and so his doubts about himself had been allowed to escalate.

"Master Dick has already eaten." Alfred replied. "He's in the library." Bruce nodded. Good, maybe Dick was trying to find another book to 'divert his attention'. "May I ask how long the young master will be staying with us?" Alfred enquired.

"As long as I can keep him here, Alfred." Bruce sighed. "I don't know what else I can do. Even keeping him here isn't really helping. You know why I made him come?"

"I think I've deduced the reason." Alfred replied with a slight smile.

"He did it again. Right in front of me. Stabbed himself with a fork during lunch." Bruce told him. Alfred raised his eyebrows. "It was never this bad when he was a child."

"Master Dick is no longer a child. Perhaps the doubts he had about his self and his place here grew with him." Alfred offered.

"I just don't understand, Alfred. I have times when I dislike myself intensely but I've never wanted to hurt myself intentionally." Bruce sighed. "He says it makes him feel better."

"A common assertion from those who self-harm I believe." Alfred patted Bruce's arm. "All we can do is be here for him. Prevent him from harming himself as much as you can but I think your time would be much better spent in teaching him the reasons he shouldn't harm himself in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Bruce looked confused.

"Master Dick doesn't like himself. You'll have to teach him how to." Alfred smiled at Bruce before disappearing with the remnants of breakfast. Bruce stood with a sigh, tucking the newspaper under his arm and heading to the library in search of Dick. He found him, predictably balanced precariously on the highest shelf.

"You know, that ladder is in here for a reason." He smiled up at Dick.

"I don't need it." Dick grinned back down at him, he climbed back down the bookshelves one handed, balancing a stack of books in the other.

"Diversions?" Bruce asked.

"No, I'm having a bonfire."

"Sarcasm in not an attractive attribute, Richard."

"Then it's a good job you already want me isn't it?" Dick replied grinning and sauntering out of the library with the books. Bruce followed him to the study. "Are you planning on following me around all day?" Dick asked, setting his books down on a large table.

"Yes." Bruce replied seriously, turning the computer on so he could check his emails. He had informed Lucius that he wouldn't be going to the office, no explanations needed of course.

"Why?" Dick asked, selecting a book and taking a seat in Bruce's favourite armchair.

"It's not often I get to spend time with you alone." Bruce replied. Dick gave him a suspicious look but then opened his book and focused his attention there. Bruce checked his emails, replying to the important ones and then closed down the computer, any other business would have to wait until later. When he looked up Dick was making a note of something.

"What are you up to?" Bruce asked.

"I'm thinking of improvements for the Batmobile." Dick replied. Bruce nodded, Dick had always enjoyed working on the cars that they used but the Batmobile was his baby for some reason, possibly because he had had to wait so long to be allowed to drive it. Bruce was still reluctant to let Tim have control of it now. Bruce sat at  
his desk with the morning papers open in front of him but his attention was focused solely on Dick. "You're staring." Dick commented after a little while, without looking up at all.

"Yes." Bruce agreed.

"Stop it." Dick sounded half irritated and half amused.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. What are your plans for today?" Bruce asked. Dick sighed and put down his book.

"This morning I'm going to read some of these books. This afternoon I'm going to train and then this evening I'm going to patrol." Dick replied. "Is that a suitable use of my time?"

"Yes." Bruce refused to rise to the bait. "Very suitable. In fact I think I might join you."

"You might not be invited."

"Then it's a good job I'm a spoilt billionaire who always gets what he wants."

"Always?" Dick looked up.

"Always." Bruce agreed, taking a seat next to Dick and picking up a book. "Now, what kind of improvements were you thinking of?"

vvvvvv

"How was patrol?" Bruce asked, having made himself rise in time to eat breakfast with Dick.

"Awkward." Dick replied honestly. "I didn't know what to say to Tim. He kept looking at me like I might break."

"Did you speak to him about it?" Bruce asked. He already knew the answer, Robin's report of the evening's patrol had included a detailed report on the conversation he and Dick had had, something Bruce was very grateful for. Bruce just wanted to see if Dick would tell him what had happened.

"I said I was sorry if I had worried him and that I knew it was something I needed to get help with and so I was. Am." Dick replied. "He asked what Dr. Avon had said and so I told him about the plans we've been making for a new Batmobile." Dick added, which was close to what Tim had related. "He said we can build him a new Redbird if we like." Dick grinned.

"I bet he did." Bruce smiled. "The Rebird hasn't been upgraded for a while." He mused. "But it's your diversion, I'll let you decide."

"Maybe we could do it after the Batmobile." Dick suggested tentatively. He had enjoyed spending the previous morning deep in conversation with Bruce about potential improvements, which had led to the decision that they should just design an entirely new Batmobile. Bruce nodded, pleased that Dick seemed to be thinking  
long term.

"I'm sure Tim can wait a while longer." He agreed. "What do you want to do today?"

"Same as yesterday." Dick offered hopefully.

"Ok." Bruce agreed easily. "Maybe we could go out somewhere for lunch."

"I don't really have any clothes." Dick replied, glancing down at himself. He was wearing things he kept at the manor purely for training in and nothing of Bruce's or Tim's would fit him well enough.

"Some of your clothes were brought from Bludhaven." Bruce replied absently as he buttered his toast.

"You went to my apartment?" Dick looked irritated.

"No." Bruce soothed. "Alfred did. He picked up some clothes for you that's all. Would you like to go out for lunch? If you'd rather stay here that's fine."

"No." Dick replied. "Dr. Avon said I should go out since I only really feel low when I'm on my own." Bruce nodded, he had suspected as much. Dick flourished in social situations, it was usually after them that his doubts began to shout at him.

vvvvvv

Bruce watched in amusement as the waitress flirted with Dick and Dick flirted back, watching Bruce carefully out of the corner of his eye.

"Jealous?" He asked when she left to take their order to the kitchen.

"Not at all." Bruce replied honestly.

"Why not?" Dick asked, pouting a little.

"Because I know you're not attracted to her." Bruce smiled. "You only like women with red hair."

"I'm not that shallow." Dick replied. Bruce just smiled and eventually Dick smiled back at him. "You know, your vapid billionaire routine doesn't work on me." He whispered.

"I should hope not." Bruce replied, smiling again. He hadn't been able to stop since they had left the house. Dick appeared to be in a good mood, laughing and joking, teasing Bruce in his usual effusive manner. A lot of it was just for show, Bruce could tell, but there was a definite improvement from the tearful Dick that had been sobbing in Bruce's arms only two days previously. "She's going to be very disappointed when you don't leave your number along with the tip." Bruce commented as the waitress smiled at Dick when she passed by.

"How do you know I won't?" Dick asked.

"She doesn't have red hair." Bruce replied surely.

"Neither do you." Dick challenged.

"But I'm not a woman."

"I had noticed."

"I'm glad to hear it." Bruce nodded. "When was the last time you went on a date?" He asked. There was a time when he used to almost obsessively keep track of Dick's social life but he had forced himself to stop. He knew Dick had been single for a while but not how long exactly.

"Ummm, right now." Dick offered.

"This is a date?" Bruce asked.

"You brought me to lunch and you're paying." Dick replied.

"In that case we've been on quite a few dates." He commented.

vvvvvv

"How's Dick?" Tim asked, as he went through his stretching exercises.

"Relieved to be allowed to patrol on his own I think." Bruce replied with a smile. "It's nothing against you, I think he just needs a little time to himself."

"He said you've been tailing him pretty closely." Tim grinned. "He's ok though?"

"I think so." Bruce sighed. Dick had announced his intention to go back to his apartment in Bludhaven, pointing out that he needed to be on his own to know how he was feeling and if he still wanted to harm himself. The urge had lessened dramatically over the week he had been staying at the manor and Dr. Avon had told Bruce, with Dick's permission, that he was making good progress. Dick had promised to call if he even got the urge to hurt himself and he was already planning to come over in two days to talk more about the new Batmobile they were designing.

"I hear you're luring him back with the Batmobile." Tim commented.

"It's been a good diversion for his attention." Bruce replied.

"He'd come back just to see you, you know." Bruce didn't answer. Tim just shook his head amused.

"What?" Bruce asked, irritated. Teenagers thought they were so smart.

"You've really got it bad."

"Tell me something I don't know."

vvvvvv

"How have you been?" Bruce asked as Dick sat opposite at him. Dick sipped his water slowly.

"I haven't hurt myself again if that's what you're asking." He replied. Bruce frowned a little. Dick had been back in Bludhaven for a month, although the two of them had been in constant contact by phone and email and Dick had visited the manor several times. The plans for the new Batmobile were almost complete and Bruce knew Dick was excited at the thought of seeing all their hard work come to fruition.

"What have you been up to?"

"Nothing much, just keeping myself busy. I caught up with Wally and Roy." Dick replied. "Tweaked the designs for the Batmobile. Worked out. I'm thinking of starting a course or something."

"A course?" Bruce asked, his interest piqued. The waitress brought over their food and they thanked her before Dick answered.

"Yeah. Just something like engineering." Dick shrugged. "Something to get me out of the apartment, staring at the same four walls all day is driving me crazy."

"Good idea." Bruce commented with a smile.

"Bruce." Dick looked at him seriously. "I know...I know I messed up." Dick looked back at his plate. "When you told me you loved me and I pretty much ran away." He sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me but...if you're willing to give this a go then I am too." Dick sounded so uncertain but his gaze, when he finally met Bruce's  
eyes, was sincere.

"You know I'm more than willing." Bruce smiled. "But I have to know. Do you think you deserve me?" He was honestly curious.

"I think I can." Dick replied. "I think I can deserve you and...as long as you think I deserve you I guess it's not a problem."

"No." Bruce agreed. "But I don't want to be your only measure, Dick. If we fight, which we're bound to sometimes, I need to know that you're not going to hurt yourself."

"I won't." Dick promised. "I...I have to be honest, I still don't see why you would want to be with me when you could have anyone but I'm getting there. I guess I'm not as much of a horrible person as I thought."

"You're not?"

"No. I asked Wally and Roy what they thought of me. All the things that they said...I actually listened to them."

"So you're going to start getting a big head now?" Bruce asked. "I'm sure they had lots of good things to say, the two of them adore you."

"I spoke to Alfred and Tim too." Dick admitted with a smile.

"Then you'll definitely be getting a big head." Bruce smiled, he was relieved that Dick had decided to confront some of his demons by speaking to those he loved about how they saw him.

"I don't see what they say they see when I look in the mirror. But...I'm not worthless. I know that. I have every right to be happy and...being with you makes me happy, Bruce." Dick admitted softly, almost shyly.

"Good." Bruce nodded. "So does this mean you're moving back to the manor?" He asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"No." Dick laughed. His expression became serious suddenly. "We're going to have to take it slowly, Bruce. I'm not 100 there yet, I don't know if I ever will be."

"We can take it at your pace." Bruce promised. "I wouldn't want it any other way."


End file.
